


This Makes Me A Furry Doesn't It...

by Tieshima



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Battle, Blood, But McCree turns some people into human jigsaws, Hanzo Shimada: Jesse's Best Friend or Nanny?, I don't want to see any comments about how baking and sewing is gendered, It's 2076 men can have a baking obession if they want, Mild Gore, Mission Gone Wrong, Other, Reader likes to make up random phrases, They're just weird like that, Thick McCree, Werewolf Jesse McCree, Who Knows?, nothing too graphic, ungendered reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 18:37:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11167692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieshima/pseuds/Tieshima
Summary: You are out on a mission when things go sour. As you lay bleeding on the battlefield you find out something new about your boyfriend, Jesse McCree.





	This Makes Me A Furry Doesn't It...

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An American Werewolf in London](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296205) by [FrostysaurusRekt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostysaurusRekt/pseuds/FrostysaurusRekt). 
  * Inspired by [Wake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736622) by [Dickbutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dickbutt/pseuds/Dickbutt). 



You add the final stitches and tie off your line. Then snap the thread and replace the needle back into your miniature sewing kit. You hold up the poncho to examine your handiwork. A brunet head and a tacky cowboy hat lean into your personal space. 

“Well now, that’s some mighty fine needle work there Sugar,” McCree says around a mouthful of cookie. “Thank ya for stitching it up fer me.”

“Why do you insist on wearing this into a battlefield?” You ask, handing him back his poncho. “It’s bright red. You might as well wear a target on your back.”

“Gotta give ‘em rat bastards at least some sort of a chance.” He hands you his hat and throws on the poncho. “It’s like a…eh…handicap.”

“You. Are. Missing. A. Hand.”

He takes his hat back with his prosthetic and looks it in mock shock. “Huh. Never noticed that before.” He laughs at the venomous glare you send him as he puts his hat back on. “Relax Sugarcookie. I’ll be fine. I have Hanners watching my back. Ain’t that right Hanners?”

You both look across the ship where the archer is sitting opposite you. He is sitting cross-legged on the seat with his arms crossed against his chest while he shoots an unamused glare at McCree. He grunts.

“See.” He claps you on the back. “Nothing gets past el gran dragón!”

You huff and reach into the cookie tin between you, taking an aggravated bite. You chew refusing to look at him and ruminate over whether to add chocolate to the recipe next time.

“You know,” he says, his voice dropping down into a low rumble. “You look mighty cute when you pout but ya don’t have ta worry. I’ll always come back for my Sugarcookie.” He leans over and nuzzles his face into your neck. “You know I got a sweet tooth.” A blush dusts across your cheeks as his nose travels up the column of flesh. He snags the collar of your turtle neck with a finger and tugs the fabric out of the way to mouth at the bruises and bite marks he left earlier that morning and the night before. You try your best to ignore him but you squirm as his beard tickles your flesh. He growls and you look out of the corner of your eye to see his amber eyes have turned golden.

It was an odd anomaly that you had noticed since you started dating the cowboy. You had come to the conclusion there were a lot of eccentricities about him. Occasionally you’d look over at him and small changes would be made in his appearance. Sometimes his eyes will have more of a golden hue or his teeth would seem to come to a sharper point than other times. You had asked him about it only for him to change the subject or brush it off. You were curious but decided not to push it. Members of the Overwatch team included two ninjas that could summon dragons, a talking gorilla, a popstar, and a woman only tethered to time by a chronal accelerator. Since joining you had learned to have a more flexible definition of normal.

“It is bad enough you made me listen to you pine over them for weeks on end, now you subject me to your disgusting displays of affection?” Hanzo grounds out.

“Hanzooo…” McCree whines.

“Weeks on end huh?” You smirk as you watch McCree’s face turn red.

“It wasn’t as pathetic as he makes it sound.”

“Oh Hanners! Isn’t Y/L/N the cutest gunslinger ya’ve ever seen?” Hanzo says in his own terrible rendition of McCree’s drawl. “Did ya know Y/L/N bakes? They made the best biscuits I’ve had in loooong time. Oh Hanners, the way they handle a gun is just poetry.”

“Hanzo.” McCree growls in warning, sitting up.

You try to hide your sniggering in his shoulder. 

Hanzo continues on in spite of the scathing glare. “How can I get Y/L/N to let me take them out if they think my flirting is me just jokin’ around!?! Have ya noticed Y/L/N smells like spun sugar? Think they tas-“

“You know Hanzo we have this thing in America called a Bro Code.” McCree says in a loud voice over him. “I can lend ya a copy if yer wanting to give it a read.”

Hanzo smirks and you struggle to keep from bursting into keeling laughter.

“Don’t worry Jesse. You’re still my bad ass cowboy.” You place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Yer just patronizing me,” he grumbles.

“More like placating.” You slip your hand in his and nuzzle your face against his.

He sighs then lifts your hand to press gentle kisses to your knuckles.

Hanzo looks away with a soft smile pulling at his lips.

Your tender moment is interrupted when Winston comes in.

“We’re getting ready to land. You all should get in your units.”

Hanzo and McCree stand and move towards the others. You start to seal the cookie tin before you join them.

“I don’t suppose those are your PB Sugar Cookies?” Winston asks.

You smile and hold out the tin to him. “Here, you can finish them off.”

Winston smiles as he takes the tin and removes a cookie. “I’m going to have to get the recipe for these from you.”

“Sorry family secret. You can have it when I’m six feet under.” You pat his shoulder and head towards your unit. On the way you lean into McCree and whisper in his ear. “Try to be at least a little careful out there.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel.”

It was chaos. You and a fellow agent had been cut off from the main group and were trapped behind enemy lines. Your comm had been damaged in a bomb blast that had gone off a little too close for comfort. Frankly you were thanking your lucky stars that you still had all your limbs and your comm, chest plate, and plasma pistols were the only things that were damaged severly. Well, maybe it wasn’t so lucky in respect to the pistols and chest plate but you were able to find a discarded plasma rifle so there was that. Nick, the agent with you, luckily still had a working comm but back up was having trouble getting to you two. The enemy fire was too thick.

You flinched as Talon’s artillery picked away at your cover causing the rubble you had been forced to hide behind to get blown off a chunk at a time.

“Well ain’t that a kazoo and a half.” You mumbled as your cover shrunk by another foot.

“Where do you get those phrases!?!” Nick looks at you in confusion before his comm goes off again. “Roger that. Still back here getting shot at! Over!”

There was a brief pause in the shots over head and you swing up and fire your pulse rifle at the Talon agents who hadn’t taken cover, bracing your foot on the stone wall.

“No.” Nick yelled over the noise. “Everybody else is down. It’s just Y/L/N an-“ Nick stops when a shot flies over his head and into your knee.

You cry out and the distraction makes you pause long enough for the enemy in front of you to get three shots into your torso, causing you to fall backward.

At the same time Nick spins to fire at the agents that have circled around and are firing from your three o’clock. “Shit! They’ve circled round! We-“ He’s cut off as he’s hit with returning fire.

You’re both laying on the ground, groaning in a puddle of blood. As you hear footsteps approach you try to lift the rifle but it proves too difficult. One of the shots went through your shoulder and the weapon is too heavy. You see one of Nick’s pistols have landed not too far away though. You try to reach it and cry at out as pain shoots through your torso. This doesn’t stop you from trying to grasp it and you become more desperate as a Talon agent comes into focus.

They walk up to Nick and don’t even pause before putting a bullet in his head. Just as your fingertips touch the pistol the agent walks over and kicks it far out of your reach. You yell in frustration and choke on the blood collecting in your throat as the agent raises his firearm at you next.

As you hack up a glob of blood you can’t help thinking Winston was gonna finally get your PB cookie recipe.

Just as the gun aligns with your head a roar rips through the air. The agent looks up to see where the source was only to be engulfed in a brown blur a second later. Your vision is obscured by something red and orange and you wonder why it’s being shaken across your face, tickling your nose. You were bleeding out, did they really have to play with you like a fucking cat? Your thoughts are interrupted as you’re over taken by another coughing fit. Blood splatters onto the object in front of your face as you try to clear your throat again, cringing as your body is wracked with pain. You are finally able to get a breath, but can already feel more blood collecting in the back of your throat. As you feel the material being pulled across and off your face you open your eyes. You are greeted by the sight of a wall of dark…fur? You blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog from your mind and you realize that loud thrumming you were suddenly surrounded by is coming from above you. You try to look around and see a clawed, fur covered hand is digging into the dirt to the left of your head. Something warm drops onto your face and you flinch before looking up. There is a blood covered muzzle above you. The gun fire starts up again and another drop of saliva and blood drip onto your face as the creature above you jerks and lowers itself closer to you. Its growling increases to a point where you’re almost vibrating with it. There is a pause as the agents scramble to reload. In that lull the creature launches itself at the soldiers. The gun fire starts back up again but this time it is accompanied by yells of terror and pain.

Well you suppose bleeding out is preferable to being mauled by a strange creature.

Your vision starts to darken around the edges and you’re caught in another coughing fit. You turn your head away to spit out more blood and see the brightly colored object from before. An errant thought in the back of your mind tells you it’s a pile of fabric. It is familiar, you know it is but your mind feels like it’s moving through sludge and you can’t place it. Instead you reach out with a shaking hand and pull it close to your face. Right before you black out you catch the scent of whiskey, gun powder, and cigar smoke.

  


Blood. The only thing he could smell was blood but that was okay, he had his prey in sight. He ignored the stabbing pain as they tried to delay the inevitable. One by one they fell to his claws and teeth. The last one fell but the rage still roared in his head and his instincts were screaming. They needed to be gone. They hurt what was his. They needed to be obliterated. He tore into a body, shaking it between his jaws. Others tried to approach but they left when he growled and turned his bloodied jaws at them. They didn’t fire or come any closer so he let them be, returning to his task.

“Jesse!”

He stops and drops the limb in mouth. With a slow turn he growls and raises his hackles. The archer is standing a few yards away. His bow remains slung over his shoulder but he stays firm and unmoving against the beast’s threatening growl. He snaps his jaws at him.

“What good does acting like an animal do for Y/N?” Hanzo snaps back.

Y/N.

McCree falls back on his haunches and tries to calm his mind. He tries to grasp some semblance of thought that isn’t pure instinct. His throat rasps as he forces words from his growling. “Whe-Whe…re-“

“We got them on the ship. Mercy is there but every minute we spend trying to wrangle you in is a minute we aren’t spending getting them to a proper med bay.”

Another growl rumbles through McCree’s chest but he shakes his head to clear it. It’s hard to think through his instincts but they cooperate since they have gone from kill, kill, kill to protection mode. As his mind focuses they become a hum in the back of his skull rather than a driving torrent. 

“Are you coming my friend?” Hanzo asks.

“Y-yes but…I don’t think I can change back…It’s still too…I can’t…”

“It’s probably all the holes in you.” Hanzo comes over and pulls McCree’s shortened arm over his shoulders. He helps the wolf walk back through the battlefield. “Did you even try to dodge their fire?”

“If they were…shooting at me…they weren’t shooting at…” The words get caught in his throat.

Hanzo doesn’t say anything for a beat. “It doesn’t look good Jesse. They had already stopped breathing when I got to them but Mercy was able to start their heart again.”

McCree saw a flicker of red before he picked up his pace. Pain was starting to lace up and down his body from the bullet wounds and it gave him something else to focus on.

They make it back to the ship and the smell of blood hits him in the face again. And it wasn’t just Y/N’s. A lot of their agents were in rough shape. They weren’t expecting this kind of fight back. This Talon base was supposed to be a small satellite, the sheer numbers they were faced with didn’t match the intel.

Hanzo eases McCree down away from the others.

“Shimada and McCree are back. Let’s roll out.” Soldier 76 says into an intercom.

McCree hears Lena’s voice crackle over the speaker. “Aye aye! Hold on tight luvs.”

Before the doors are even fully closed the ship is being lifted into the air.

“That’s McCree!?!” Lúcio looks at them shocked. “My dude…why do you have a tail?”

McCree snarls and his lip curls over his fangs.

Hanzo leans forward and starts the work of helping McCree’s body expel any lodged bullets. “Not now Lúcio.”

McCree’s ears twitch when he hears a gasp. He looks over and sees Mercy and another Valkyrie medic working over Y/N.

“Put more pressure there,” Mercy murmurs as she moves to another wound.

His ears pin backward against his skull and he whines. Lúcio follows his gaze and frowns.

“Yeah. Another time.” He turns back to his own work and loads up a file. He hits play and the healing sound waves wash over the two agents on either side of the device.

“Seventy-Six. What happened?” Hanzo growls as the old soldier kneels next to them and turns on a biotic emitter.

McCree groans as his body is forced to expel the bullets at a faster rate. He’s grateful most of his wounds were caused by plasma weapons. Pushing out bullets was always a pain in the ass.

“They were expecting us. Looks like our intel wasn’t as reliable as we thought.” Seventy-Six presses a sterile pad against a particularly deep wound. “Winston was able to upload the virus to their network though, and we’ve destroyed the base.”

“So I suppose the causalities were worth it.” McCree growls out.

“No. But you take your victories where you can.”

McCree growls but looks away. Fuck you Morrison, he thinks to himself.

  


There was beeping. Insistent beeping. It was annoying you.

“Jesse,” you groan. “Turn off the damn alarm…”

“Jesse is not here,” says a deep accented voice.

You shoot open an eye in confusion. Your confusion grows when the ceiling above you isn’t the one in your quarters or Jesse’s.

“That sound is also not an alarm.” You turn your head to see Hanzo leaning back in a chair next to your bed. “Although you have been doing a rather decent job at using it to alarm us.”

You look around and see that you’re in med bay. There is a curtain around your section but a parting between the fabrics allows you to see that many of the other medical beds are occupied by other agents.

“I take it the mission didn’t end well…” You say looking down at yourself. There is a dull pain running along your nerves but you suspect the IV running from your arm is the only reason for that. Most of your body is covered under blankets and not just by the standard hospital ones.

“We accomplished what we went there for but there were more causalities than anticipated.”

You run a hand over the brightly colored poncho laid across you. Then your eyes go to the small table next to your bed where you see a beaten up cowboy hat and metal prosthetic arm. Your throat gets thick and it gets hard to breath. Why was Hanzo here and not…? “J-Jesse?”

“He recovered quickly. Didn’t need much medical attention, not that the fool allowed any of the medics close.”

You look over at the archer with a confused face. “Then where is he?”

“I told him to…what’s the saying? Blow off steam?” He continued when you nodded. “He was getting dangerous, especially after you flat lined for the second time.”

“Dangerous? This is Jesse McCree we’re talking about here right? He’s intimidating sure but dangerous enough to warrant being kicked out? What was he doing? Waving Peacekeeper around?”

Hanzo was quiet as he watched you. As the silence dragged on you began to squirm. He and Jesse were close so you had gotten used to his presence but the archer’s intense gaze could still put you on edge. You always felt like he could dig your deepest darkest secrets out with just a look.

“How much from the mission do you remember?” He asks.

You frown and try to rewind your memory. “Pretty much everything up until being turned to Swiss cheese. The blood loss makes things fuzzy after that…I remember something that definitely wasn’t in the briefing though. Why weren’t we warned there was a chance of giant fucking monsters?”

His mouth tightened into a tight line and he looks away.

Something was niggling at the edge of your mind. You tried to chase the thread but the haze of drugs made it difficult. You tried remembering more of the creature but the pieces you manage to scrape together don’t form a very clear picture. As you comb over your memories of the fight the last one hits you like a bastion. Red and orange fabric. You look down at the poncho covering you and see the part where you had coughed up blood. Then you turn back to Hanzo and pick out the tight lines in his body.

“Where is Jesse?”

“As I told you, he is blowing off steam.”

Before he is finished you are fighting to sit up. As you try to ease the IV out of your arm as gentle as possible he rushes forward to push you back down.

“You are still healing. Lay ba-“

“Okay, here’s how this is gonna go Hanners,” He grumbles at your use of McCree’s nickname for him. “I’m going to go track down Jesse and get some answers. You can either help or go fuck a duck. Which is it going to be?”

Hanzo rolls his eyes and leaves, brushing past the curtains.

Fuck a duck option it was then.

You pull out the IV and rip off a strip of the hospital sheet to stop the blood that oozes out. You throw off the sheets and look down at yourself. Staying up right was already going to be a challenge thanks to the pain in your torso but the brace around your knee was doing you no favors either. You wince as you have to slide your leg over the edge with your hands. Seconds later the curtains flutter open and Hanzo walks back in pushing a wheel chair.

“You two are a match made in hell,” he grounds out as he helps you get into the chair.

You wince and smirk at him. “So then we were tied together by a larger power. You’re his best friend by choice. What does that say about you?”

He rolls his eyes again as he makes sure your leg is properly in the leg support. Then he moves behind you and wheels you out of medical with swift steps. At the last minute you reach back and snap up Jesse’s poncho. As he wheels you out you settle the fabric over your lap. The two of you move through the halls and you try to figure out where he is taking you. You are surprised when you are rolled down to the holding cells. Hanzo does not pause and seems to know which cell he is looking for. He wheels you up to one of the heavy duty cells where you can hear scratching, banging, and snarling coming from behind the door.

Hanzo comes out from behind you and goes to a pad beside the door. He hits a button and the screen lights up with an image of the inside of the cell. You don’t know what you were expecting but the hulking beast stalking along the entrance was not it. No. Not a beast. This wasn’t an animal, despite its appearance. This was Jesse. Even if the limb that ended in a stump at the elbow wasn’t already a pretty big indicator as to who you were looking at, you would know the gaudy BAMF belt buckle holding up his tattered pants anywhere. But he didn’t look the same as when you last saw him.

Instead of the man you knew you saw what you could only describe as a wolf trying to play at being a man. He was covered in a thick coat of chestnut fur with a wolf’s head and a hand that ended in wicked claws. When he snarled and rammed against the door you caught sight of long sharp fangs and teeth meant for ripping apart flesh. And maybe metal if the thick muscles in his neck and jaw were any indication. McCree had never really had defined six pack muscles but they were definitely there under a padding of fat. It didn’t make him any softer but it gave him more weight to throw around. The wolf you were staring at was no different. It was as if someone had taken McCree’s build and hit times three. You don’t know how the door still looked so intact when he kept wailing at it with all that power.

“H-how long…” You fought to speak through your confusion. All the evidence pointed to this being your Jesse but you still had trouble connecting this with the cowboy you knew.

“It happened a few years after he joined Overwatch. You should hear the story from him. Not me…it’s not pleasant.”

You wrapped an arm around your torso and fought back the angry tears prickling at your eyes. He’d been like this that long and you’re only finding out now? “How many people know then?” Was I the only one who didn’t know?

“Well after the scene he’s made, everyone. But before yesterday only a select few. Mainly those that worked closely with him before Overwatch fell.”

“And you.” 

“And me. Don’t know why.”

“Because he trusts you.” And not me.

“He was going to tell you he just…”

“Didn’t.”

“When he told me, he was risking losing a comrade. A brother in arms. He felt he was putting more at risk by telling you.”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but he turned away and pounded against the door.

“Jesse! It’s Hanzo! Settle down, I’m going to open the door.”

There was a particularly loud thud and a snarl as McCree threw himself against the reinforced metal again.

“Enough! Or I’m taking Y/N back to medical.”

The growls and snarls immediately cut off and turn to a high pitched whine.

“Move away from the door.” He turns to watch McCree huddle against the back wall trying to make himself as small as possible, tail tucked between his legs. Hanzo turns back to you. “It’s still him. There isn’t a split but he has a harder time ignoring his instincts when he gets worked up. He won’t appreciate me forcing you in there. I can take you back to medical whenever you want. Even now.”

“No. I…I need to make this real. See him in the flesh.”

Hanzo nods and wheels you closer to the door. He enters a code and the door opens with a shudder and a screech. Apparently it wasn’t holding up as well as you thought. You nod and then are being wheeled in slowly. As you clear the door jamb Jesse looks up and eyes you carefully. You can see his nose twitching as he smells the air and an ear flicks up and down as he listens to the sounds around him. Primarily your heart beat.

“J-Jesse?”

He whines again and crawls closer to you. When he reaches a hesitant hand out, you tense and Hanzo rolls you back. In an instant Jesse’s worried expression snaps into a dangerous glare. His lips pull back into a snarl and he growls at the archer.

Hanzo holds up his hands.

“Jesse,” You say in a firmer voice.

His gaze flies back to you and softens. His muscles loosen and he lowers himself closer to the ground.

You eye the dried blood in his fur and if you focus you can see a few almost healed bullet wounds.

“Aw Huckleberry, what did I tell you about being careful?”

He shoots you a glare and gives your wheel chair a pointed look.

“What? I told you to be careful, didn’t say anything about me.” You try to sit more forward and wince as another jolt of pain shoots through.

Jesse leans forward and reaches out but his hand just hovers like he doesn’t know what to do. You reach up and pull him closer by that hand, running your fingers through the fur. He lets you bring him forward but he’s careful not to let any part of his hulking form brush up against you aside from where you have him by the arm.

“I’ll be outside.” Hanzo says in a soft voice.

You hear him walk out of the cell and then the groan of the door closing.

“Now let me see what you’ve done to yourself.” You run your hands through his fur. Your hands trail up his arm and across his chest. Every time your fingers brush across a track of blood you work on combing out the crustiness and picking out the red flakes. When you touch small dots of smooth skin you massage the muscle a bit. By the time you’ve finished with his torso he his emitting a gentle content rumble. You go to his cut off arm and massage the stub. You didn’t look up at him as you say, “Part of me understands why you didn’t tell me. This isn’t exactly something you bring up at a first date but…we’ve been going out for while…haven’t I proven you can trust me yet?”

You jump slightly when a rough voice rumbles out, “S-scar-Scaaaared.”

You hadn’t expected him to be able to answer in this form.

“I was…scared…th-that you’d be sc-scared.”

“Jesse McCree do you honestly think that I am that much of a lily based pontoon?”

“Am I sup-supposed to know what that is?”

“Believe me, this is a lot to take in. A lot. But you mean a whole butternut squash to me cowboy.”

“Seriously. These aren’t phrases anybody uses from any part of the world. What are you sayin’?”

You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him close enough where your noses are touching. “I love you Jesse McCree, and it is going to take more than a furry fetish to get rid of me.”

And of course in response he runs a long slimy tongue up the side of your face from chin to hair line. “You sure?”

“EWWW!” you wipe at your face. “Why do you have to be such a child?”

“You know you love it.” He nuzzles his face against you then moves so his nose can huff at your body.

You giggle and squirm. “You only do it because I’m usually covered in powdered su-OH!” You wince and clutch at your knee as the movement jostles your leg. 

He immediately pulls away. When he sees your pale face grimacing in pain his ears go flat against his head and he whines. 

“It’s just a little sore Fido.” You lean back in your chair and take deep breaths trying to will the deep throbs in your body away. “Just give me a minute. Or an hour.”

He lowers himself till his head is resting in your lap, being careful to keep the weight on your good leg. You run your fingers through the coarse fur around his neck. His tongue lazily flicks out to lick at your arm. After a quiet moment his ears suddenly flick up. They twitch and turn towards the door. He lifts his head to stare at it.

“What is it?” you ask. “Huckleberry, what do your doggo ears hear?”

He growls and nips at your ear.

“Angry Angel approaching.” Hanzo’s voice says over the intercom.

Moments later you hear the clacking of shoes then muffled voices speaking outside. You hear Hanzo is in the middle of saying something when the door slides open with a screech. You look over your shoulder and cringe at the sight of the usually mild mannered doctor fuming, her presence somehow able to fill the doorway. Even Jesse has the decency to look cowed.

“Just what do you think you’re doing!?!” she snaps.

“Um…visiting my boyfriend’s kennel?”

Jesse huffs and sends you a disgruntled look.

“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree Dr. Y/L/N.”

“I…don’t?”

“Oh so then you don’t know the endless list of possible complications that could happen from someone in your condition getting out of bed and roaming the base.” 

You flinch at her harsh tone. “I just needed to see him.”

She marches over and grabs your wheelchair, starting to wheel you out. “Well HE can come see YOU in medical.” As Jesse moves to follow she whirls on him, wagging a finger under his nose. “When he changes back. I’m not going to have you snapping at my staff again.”

His ears pin down to his head and he grumbles. He takes a deep breath and focuses on changing back. Your eyes widen as his body seems to let out puffs of steam. He groans and winces as his bones shift and crack. You don’t realize you’re gripping the arms of your wheelchair hard enough that your knuckles are turning white until Angela rests her hand on yours. You look up at her and she gives you a soft smile.

“It’s okay. It’s easier for him to build down than up.”

You nod and ease your grip.

Once the steam starts to clear he stands up, turning his neck this way and that until it pops. He shakes out his limbs and makes his way over to your wheelchair. You hold out his poncho to him but he pushes it back at you. “I’d much rather you keep it right now Sugarcookie. Keeps me calm havin’ you wrapped in ma scent.”

You push it back. “And I’d much rather YOU keep it right now Huckleberry.”

He is about to open his mouth to reply until he hears Hanzo cough from the doorway. He turns and Hanzo gives a pointed look at his crotch. His pants are ripped and stretched out beyond hope of repair and are acting more as a tattered loincloth. And not a good one as his dick peaks out between a tear that wasn’t as noticeable when he had fur. A wolfish grin spreads across his face and he turns to you.

“I got nothin’ to be ashamed of. I’m quite proud of my artillery.”

“Humour your jealous lover. That isn’t just YOUR artillery.”

He laughs and takes the poncho, throwing it over his shoulders. “I like it when you get possessive Sugarcookie.”

“Can I get my patient back to medical now?” Angela asks in a dry voice.

“Right behind ya’ Ang.”

As you start to move forward you whistle, hold out a hand, and say, “Come here boy. Such a good boy.” You rub his stomach when he comes close and then give his chub a warm squeeze.

He takes your hand and runs his thumb in small circles over your skin. “I’m gonna be dealing with a lot of those kinds of jokes from now on, ain’t I?”

“Does Winston have a peanut butter addiction?”

He sighs and shakes his head but you can see the small smirk on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Please help support me on [**Ko-fi**](https://ko-fi.com/Z8Z5DNDF) so I can have more time for you darlings!


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